Poetry
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Exotic Enough for My Taste

Okay, itís a sandbox; not a tropical shore
And a pool; not a distant lagoon
And itís nowhere exotic. And weíve been there before
Itís just the backyard in the moon
But thereís that look in her eye
And that beautiful sigh
And that cute little smile on her face
And holding her hand
As we walk through the sand
Is exotic enough for my taste

So itís the neighborhood park; not a path through the woods
And the trees are not towering pines
And weíre tramping around in our jackets and hoods
And weíre strolling and taking our time
But thereís that look in her eye
And that beautiful sigh
And that cute little smile on her face
And it rains as we walk
And we grow as we talk
And thatís exotic enough for my taste

So weíre not on a boat on a lake or a gorge
And weíre not on a gulf or a sea
The rocking is just the old swing on the porch
And the waves are the wind in the trees
But thereís that look in her eye
And that beautiful sigh
And that cute little smile on her face
And we sit and we swing
And we talk about things
And thatís exotic enough for my taste

On a cool summerís eve
When a rainís on the breeze
And the clouds are a blanket of gray
Or a star-studded night
With the moon glowing bright
At the end of a long hectic day
Thereís a oneness thatís made
From a break in the shade
And a pause from the worldís hurried pace
And spending my life
With my friend and my wife
Is exotic enough for my taste